


Scared Little Bunny

by Gothleaf



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sterek is the endgoal, Werebunny Stiles Stilinski, we will see how this turns out
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2020-10-10 21:11:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20534669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothleaf/pseuds/Gothleaf
Summary: Stiles has a lot on his mind. After being bitten, he has been turned into a wererabbit. He has to constantly fight to keep his animal instincts from controlling him. It is affecting not only him, but his relationships with other people.Not to mention, Derek has decided to not leave him alone.





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

As Stiles walked up the porch, the scent of wolves hit him. His animal instincts kicked in and he had to stop outside the door. The unhuman part of his brain screamed at him to run for safety. Wolves are bad, it said, dangerous.

He took a deep breath and push those thoughts down. I’m safe, he told himself. His heightened hearing kicked in and he could hear his friends inside. Scott and Allison were making out. Disgust fell on him. Another thing he wished he could unhear. Erica and Boyd were fighting over who gets the last couch seat and who sits on the ground. Stiles could hear a book page turn and knew it was Lydia, who was reading about female scientists lately. Even though he couldn’t hear them, he knew Isaac, Jackson, Cora, Peter and Derek were there too. It was a pack meeting and everyone was required to go.

“--is he?” Cora asked.

“Outside.” A deep voice answered. Derek, Stiles knew. “He has been standing out there for the past five minutes.”

Busted. Stiles tried not to blush as he entered the wolf den.

Everyone looked at him, making him self conscious. He mumbled an apology and tried not to meet anyone's eyes as he stood next to Scott and Allison. Without looking at him, Stiles could tell Scott was giving him a pitiful look and trying to restrain himself from touching him. Stiles briefly wondered how long his friend could hold out. 

“Alright, now that we are all here,” Derek looked pointedly at him and Stiles face felt hot, “the meeting can commence.”

Everyone settled down and became still, giving their alpha all their attention.

“Last month, a rouge alpha entered Beacon Hills and attacked two people before we took care of him. Stiles was one-” Again, everyone turned to Stiles and he had to make an effort to keep his heart from racing from so many werewolves looking at him at once. Judging by Peter’s awful grin, he was failing. “-- and he was turned into a ...” Derek sighed, like he couldn’t believe the truth, “ into a werebunny.”

“Rabbit,” Stiles muttered, but Derek kept talking.

“The other is Macy Linton. A high schooler who disappeared after she was attacked. She contacted the school yesterday. We were able to find out that she is in Lightfort, a city three hours from here with her grandfather. I will take a small team tomorrow to go get her.”

“Not creepy sounding at all.” Stiles said under his breath. Erica and Scott laughed causing Derek to scowl at them.

“Stiles, you will be coming with me.”

“What?” Stiles cried out. “Why me?”

“Because I said so.” Derek replied. Before Stiles could object, he glared at Stiles with his deep red eyes. Alpha’s could turn their eyes red when they wanted, usually to make sure their Betas do what they say, turns out it works with wererabbits. Stiles argument caught in his throat and he had to look away.

“I’ll go too,” Scott spoke up. Stiles wanted to thank him. Even though Scott’s wolf sent made the hairs on Stiles’ neck turn up, he would appreciate his friend’s presence.

“No.” Derek said while shaking his head. “I changed my mind. Only Stiles and I will go. Everyone else will stay here and keep an eye on our borders until we return.”

Peter chuckled and shot Derek a look. Whatever creepy uncle was silently saying, Derek didn’t like because he glared at him harder than he did at Stiles.

“Now that business is over. Let’s watch the movie.” Derek ended weakly. Anyone could tell socializing wasn’t Derek’s strong suit, but he was trying. Everyone began moving to get ready for movie night, causing Stiles to flinch.

Scott tugged on his sleeve. “We got Return of the Jedi.” He gave Stiles the puppy eyes.

Stiles instantly felt guilt for his cowardness, but he couldn’t stay any longer. “Actually, I have some homework to do. And packing.” Scott’s face fell. “I’m sorry.”

Isaac and Erica began to interject, but Stiles raced out before they could stop him.

“But we got this movie for you.” Stiles heard Scott say sadly before he ran out the door.

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ten hours later, Stiles was standing at the end of his driveway with his bag. It was 8:15 in the morning and according to Derek’s text, he should have been there by now. Stiles picked up his bag and started heading towards his house when a black Chevrolet Camaro pulled up to the side of the road.

“It’s about time.” Stiles mumbled and threw his stuff in trunk. He opened the door and froze. The inside of the car smelled heavily like Derek. His heart began to race and Stiles had to suppress more rabbit instincts to flee, before he could slide into the car and closed the door.

Derek didn’t immediately drive, like Stiles wanted him too. Stiles cursed in his head as he looked towards him. 

Derek stared back at him and Stiles wished he knew what he was thinking. 

“You haven't made any progress.” Derek said, while handing him a cup of coffee. 

Stiles accepted the coffee graciously and took a long drink to stall from answering. “I have. It’s just hard.”

“Have you been practicing--”

Stiles interrupted him. They had this conversation so many times in the last month that Stiles had it memorized. “Yes, I have been practicing. Yes, I am focusing. Yes, I want to get better and be with the pack again. No, I don’t need you to teach me. As I have mentioned before, your instructions are for a werewolf who can’t control their anger. I am different. I am a wererabbit who can’t control his fear. Unless, you suddenly know more about rabbit shifters than you did when I got Turned, I don’t think you can teach me. This is something I have to do on my own and it will take some time.”

Derek nodded and started driving. Stiles silently thanked the lord and rolled down his window and stared out of it. Anything to distract his senses from Derek’s presence.

They were quiet for an hour before Derek hit Stiles with a different topic.

“Why can’t you stand being around me?”

“Huh?” Stiles sputtered, turning to him.

Derek glanced at him and then looked at the road. “I noticed how you can be near the others. From the beginning you were the same around Lydia and Allison because their humans, but around others you acted distant. It’s gotten better, you are allowing the others to be close to you, but you always move away when I get near you. Why don’t you want me near you?”

Stiles stared at him with his mouth open for a few minutes before he could speak. “I don't move away from you when you get near me,” Stiles denied.

Derek didn’t take his eyes off the road, but Stiles noticed his knuckles turning white from gripping the wheel to tight. “You do. This is the closest you have been near me in a month. And you always get scared when I am around. I can smell it on you.”

Stiles didn’t answer right away. He tried to think of a time when he was wrong, but came up with nothing. Stiles used to keep his werewolf friends at an arm’s length away from him when he turned. Graderally, he started to move past his stupid fear of wolves and allow the others to get closer to him. He even allowed Erica to hug him and Scott to scent him lightly. But he had never gotten close to Derek. To be fair, he didn’t think Derek would care enough to notice.

“It’s just that we were never close. Before the accident.” Stiles answered honestly. “We didn’t hang out or agree much. The same for Peter and Cora. I haven’t become close with them either, before and after the accident. With the others, we were friends and I hung out with each separately outside of pack meetings.” Stiles paused and added, “I didn’t know it bothered you.”

“Your my Beta. You shouldn’t be afraid of me.” Derek said softly. Stiles couldn’t help but think how much he had changed from when Scott and Stiles met him. He used to be so closed off and dependent on others fearing him. Now, he was softer and happier.

Stiles blushed and turned to his window. Die thoughts. Die. 

The rest of the drive was silent.


	2. Dine and Dash

Stiles sent his last text to his dad when Derek pulled over to a restaurant. If he was still a human, he would have made a joke about how much Derek ate, but since he wasn’t, he didn’t even question the decision. His stomach was twisting from hunger, even though he ate several granola bars on the ride. Damn supernatural metabolism.

Stiles followed Derek in and started to pull out his wallet. Derek shook his head.

“I got this,” he said and ordered several sandwiches. Since Derek was Scrooge McDuck rich, Stiles didn’t argue. 

Derek paused and glanced at him. “Do you still eat meat?”

A grin grew on Stiles lips. “Why? They don’t have any leaves and carrots?” 

Apparently the cashier didn’t understand sarcasm. Without a beat, she answered, “We have a salad option with shredded carrots.”

Stiles studied the menu for a moment. “I’ll take that and a yogurt parfait with blueberries and three double cheeseburgers with curly fries and coke.”

The cashier didn’t even blink at the large order. While Derek paid, Stiles found a booth in the back by the window. A minute later, Derek slid into the same side. His thigh was touching Stiles’ and he had to make an effort not to scootch away or show any of the panic that bloomed in his chest. 

“Dude, there is a whole seat over there.” He said loudly and pointed to the other side.

Derek shrugged and asked innocently, “Do you want me to move?”

Stiles bit his lip. He knew if he said yes, he would only be proving Derek’s point from before, that Stiles didn’t like him being close. But he couldn’t stop feeling trap with a wall on his left and a wolf on his right. 

Derek sighed and moved over to the other side. Stiles let out the breath that he didn’t know he was holding. “Is this better?”

Stiles nodded without looking at him. The familiar awful feeling of disappointing his friend returned. A warm hand suddenly grabbed his. Stiles tried to yank his away but the grip was too tight. He looked up at Derek.

“Try, alright?” Derek looked him right in the eyes and Stiles couldn’t look away. “Just try to be around me. I know I scare you. I know what it is like having to fight your instincts, but you have to keep trying. You can’t keep pushing me--and the pack away.”

“I’m not pushing the pack away,” he said weakly. He stopped struggling and made an effort to relax his hand.

“You are. We only see you during meetings and you always leave right afterwards. Do you know how much you hurt them? Especially Scott? You stopped hanging out with him and you punched him in the face when he tried to scent you after you gave him permission to.”

Stiles broke eye contact and looked down. This was no longer a friend to friend conversation. This was an Alpha lecturing his Beta. 

“I know, okay?” Stiles snapped. “I know I hurt them. I know I made things awkward with Scott. I can’t help it. It’s too much. I can barely handle being a werebunny when I am alone. My senses kick in and I am left paralyzed by the sensory overload. I get scared over the stupidest things, like a dog barking or a car honking. I couldn’t leave my room for days because I was too scared.”

Tears started to well up in Stiles eyes and he wiped them before they could fall. “I want to be with you guys. I miss them. I miss hanging out with my friends and hanging out with just Lydia and Allison isn’t the same. I miss Scott. What do think I do when I turn down hanging out with him? I sit on my bed and nothing else. Because I’m miserable too.”

“I’m a coward. I can’t stand the fear and anxiety that I get from being around you. I want things to go back to before. I hate this.” 

He didn’t swipe fast enough and a tear rolled down his cheek. Derek’s grip loosened and Stiles pulled back his hand. He slid out of the booth and started heading to the bathroom. Derek didn’t try to stop him.

Stiles locked the door. It was a one room bathroom that smelled horrendous. He gagged and rushed over to the sink. A loud crash of plates caused him to jump.

“Come on man,” a man said, causing Stiles to jump. There was no one there, but it sounded like someone was speaking next to his ear. 

“I would like a--” “No, I told you I will be late---” A car honked loudly, a baby screamed and another crash. Stiles cried out from fright. He slid to the floor and covered his ears. The noises were too much. 

“Calm down, calm down.” he muttered through ragged breaths. 

A painful hot feeling spread over his face. The noise dimmed and Stiles could hear the horrific sound of his face changing. Bones were cracking, skin was stretching, hair was growing. It was over quickly and he sat there for a while to scared to move. Finally he got the nerve to stand up and look in the mirror.

He was hideous. 

His face structure stretched out to his nose, which had transitioned into his face so the small nostrils flared with every breath. His front teeth were taller than the others his mouth. The top one jutted out so he could still close his mouth, but the tips could still be seen. His eyes were large and black with slightly darker pupils, and he had several eyelashes and whiskers that were long and stood out.

He also had long floppy bunny ears where his normal ears should have been and his tiny claws.

All together, he looked like a monster.

A loud knock banged on the door causing Stiles to jump a foot into the air.

“Stiles, we have to go now.” Derek yelled.

“No.” Stiles yelled back.

“We have to go!” The door handle started to shake and Stiles had enough time to turn around when there was a loud snap and the door open.

“Stiles, get-- Stiles?”

Stiles covered his face with his hands and refused to look at Derek. He heard a small sigh and then a jacket fell on his head and Derek picked him. He started to twist and turn, but stop when he heard Derek growl. “Stop struggling.” 

Stiles went stiff. Derek carried him to the car and placed him into the seat. He raced out of the parking lot with dangerous speed and sharp turns. Stiles took deep breaths till his heart stopped racing, before he could talk.

“What’s wrong?” 

“Parrish called me.” Derek answered angrily. “Macy Linton’s grandfather, George Linton was found torn to shreds outside a store an hour ago. He said they think it was a ‘wild dog’.”

They knew better. There was no simple answer when it came to supernatural, like wild dogs. It was a wolf. A werewolf and it was on a mission.

“They can’t find Macy anywhere.”

They had to find Macy Linton first.


	3. Pictures of Beauty

Stiles slid the jacket off his head for the first time since Derek gave it to him. He wasn’t worried anyone would see him. Derek had parked behind a barber shop that was out of business so he could get close to George’s house without the police spotting him. The plan was for Derek to run to the nearby house, get inside, and find a clue to where Macy was or get near enough to pick up her scent without getting caught by the police. Stiles’ job was to stay in the car and out of sight. They didn’t need any witnesses to his shift.

His leg started to bounce as the minutes ticked by. The least Derek could have done was left him the keys so he could listen to music. Restlessness and boredom started to take hold of him. Desperate he peered around the car for something to do.

The vehicle was clean except for some takeout boxes that gave off a delicious aroma behind his seat on the floor. He must have been so stressed out about his shift to notice them earlier. Stiles stomach growled angrily, and he snatched a box up and dug in. The sandwich was amazing, and he spent the next half an hour lost in its taste. As he finished off another box, he realized that Derek had been gone for a long time. Trying to squish the bubble of anxiety rising in chest, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

The jacket that had slid down from his lap to his feet gave off a series of dings. He wiped his fingers on his shirt and pulled it up. In the pocket was Derek’s phone. Great, Stiles thought. They had no way to communicate if something went wrong, like one of them meeting a murderous werewolf that is on the loose. 

Sure, Derek would be fine if he got in a fight. The guy had the most athletic body Stiles had ever seen. Stiles on the other hand, sucked at fighting. He was more of the awesome guy in the chair. In an attempt to distract his nerve, he started to mess around on Derek’s phone. 

“How can the dude have no games?” The only app he had downloaded was a work out app. It was a waste of an expensive phone. Stiles couldn’t help feeling a bit disappointed in the guy. He clicked on images and was surprised by what he saw. Mixed in with pictures of the pack together or individual selfies of members who had clearly stolen Derek phone, there were wonderful pictures of nature. Stiles was blown away by the great quality in the picture of a deer standing in the mist. He never took Derek as a photographer. He swiped through them, enjoying himself, when he landed on a picture of himself. 

His eyes were shut, and his face was red from laughing. The image was centered around his face, but he could see someone else shirt behind him. He swiped backwards and found the same image but zoomed out, so the entire pack was included. They were all in good spirit and wet from a water balloon fight. Derek was out of the picture since he was the one to take it. He must have also been the one to zoom in on Stiles for some reason. 

He swiped back to the close up and stared at his face before leaning over and looking in the door window. Yep, he was still monstrous. He hadn’t been able to shift out of his wererabbit from. He tried doing what Derek had instructed before he left. Calm down and think about what he wanted to happen, but it wasn’t working. He sighed and slipped Derek’s phone back in the jacket’s pocket. 

It wasn’t fair that he got turned into a rabbit. It was insane because he was bitten by a werewolf, but like Deaton and Derek said, a person’s transformation depends on that person's quality. When Jackson was bitten, his parent issues caused him to turn into a lizard. Later, through coming to terms with his problem, Jackson was able to turn into a werewolf. They had no idea why Stiles had turned into a rabbit or if he would eventually turn into a werewolf at all. That was the Stiles luck. He had the opportunity to become a powerful beast and he ends up becoming a meek little bunny and no one could explain why. He was too busy brooding to notice a figure nearing the car. 

The car door opened, and Derek slid in. He glanced at Stiles and did a retake. Stiles was so caught off guard to his appearance that he froze, forgetting that he was embarrassed by his appearance. When Derek’s eyes moved from his face to his ears, he realized his mistake and moved to grab the jacket. Faster than he could see, Derek’s ripped the jacket out of his hands.

“Thanks,” he said and pulled out his phone. He looked at the screen and paused. Stiles realized he left the screen on the picture of him. Curiosity overtook his shame and he stared at Derek, trying to figure out his expression. Without explaining the picture’s origin, Derek exited the pictures and started texting. 

Stiles had just figure out the words to politely force an answer out of him, when Derek’s face changed. In a moment, the structure of his face extended outwards, his nose turned into a snout, his teeth to fangs, his eyes turned blue and hair sprouted on the side of his face. He turned towards Stiles, who nearly peed his pants.

Fear must have been all over his face because Derek turned back in an instant.

“Why did you do that?” Stiles shouted once he was able to talk. His hand was over his beating heart. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack!”

Derek put down his phone and turned to Stiles. His eyes were filled with frustration. “I was trying to help.”

“Help me die?” Stiles accused.

“No! I-you.” He shook his head and glanced away. When he turned back, he looked determined. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed about how you look when you shifted. Looks mean very little to werecreatures.”

“Sure.” Stiles said. He looked out the window. “Looks matter, even with werecreatures and animals. In many animal species, looks are very important to getting a mate and humans judge all the time. So don’t give me the crap that you guys won’t care. I care. I look like a freak.”

“And I don’t?” Derek asked loudly. Taken off guard by his tone, Stiles looked back at him. “When I shift, do you think I could win a beauty pageant. If that is how you look at it, we are all freaks so you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be around me.”

“It’s different.” Stiles mumbled.

“How?” 

Stiles took a moment to search for the right words. He wanted to point out that the first word that came to his mind when he saw Derek shift, wasn’t “ugly”. It was power. Even before he was bitten, he could see the power within Derek’s transformation. Heck, Derek was powerful when he wasn’t shifted. He was also strong, confident, hot ...scratch that last one. Stiles didn’t know how to say any of those things.  


Derek shook his head. Stiles watched him reach out his hand and he had to mentally fight to keep his instincts under control as Derek held his chin and force him to meet Derek’s eyes. “You shouldn’t be embarrassed by how you look. I think you look great.”

Blood rushed to Stiles cheeks. He ripped his chin out of Derek’s grip and turned away, wrapping his hands around his face so Derek wouldn’t see his expression. Did he really mean that? Stiles felt his face under his hands began to change. The bones moved, his teeth shortened, the hair retreated. He pulled down the visor and was ecstatic to see he had shifted back.

Derek smiled at him. “I think I know what your problem was. You had to learn to accept what you are. Now, you need to embrace it.”

“How do I do that?” Stiles asked, still rubbing his hands across his face. 

“I don’t know. Your the one who wants to figure things out on their own.” Derek answered while looking at his phone. He missed the dip in Stiles’ smile, but Stiles was able to fix it before Derek looked back up. “Scott, Allison, and Erica are on their way. They should be here around four. They will help us take care of that werewolf. In the meantime, we will be going to a sewage plant. Apparently, its Macy was going today. I overheard a policeman who was searching the house call it in on their radio.”

“A sewage plant, really?” Stiles complained as Derek started the car. “That is the worst place to hang out. Shouldn’t we wait for the others?”

Derek pulled out and Stiles was happy to be able to roll down his window and enjoy the view. “No, we may not have the time if Macy is in danger. If we come across the werewolf, I will handle him. Also, the plant is abandoned.”

“So, to recap, our plan is to go to an abandoned sewage plant, avoid the police who are probably already there by now, find a newly transformed werewolf and talk her into coming with us, while avoiding the murdering werewolf who is also after her and our back up being three hours away.”

“Yep,” Derek gestured to the back. “Hand me a box. I was able to get our food pack up.”

Stiles twisted around and looked in the back to see all the boxes opened and empty. He must have eaten more than he thought. He turned back around and gave Derek his best angel face. “You may want to add getting lunch on our list.”

Derek growled at him.


	4. Help.....help..me..

Stiles wished they had never gone into the sewage plant. They should have waited for backup or take a moment to think things through. Derek was hot headed and determined to find the girl. Stiles had no excuse. He had always been proud of coming up with plans and strategies. If he hadn’t been so wound up about his condition or getting the mission over, he would have taken a moment and think about their situation and see the bigger picture.

Derek was dead.

Stiles no longer knew where he was or if he would see his family again.

He didn’t even want to think about Macy.

EARLIER

Stiles tripped for the fourth time, scraping his hands when he tried to catch himself. He crashed on the ground with an “umph”. Derek paused and helped him up. Stiles moved his palm and wince. He managed to get them pretty scratched up. He looked up and noticed that Derek had started walking again. He rushed to catch up, nearly tripping again.

“We are trying to be stealthy.” Derek reminded him.

“You’re not still mad about the food, are you?” Stiles asked. Derek didn’t answer. “Remind me to never eat your food again, Sourwolf.” 

It will drive Stiles to madness from the unsurety, but he could have sworn he saw Derek smirk for a moment. 

After leaving the parking lot, they drove for an hour to the abandoned sewage plant, stopping along the way to pick up several pizzas. Derek parked in a small clearing between the trees, a little way away from the plant. Like before, he thought it would be best to sneak around in case of police or murdering wolves, much to Stiles disdain. By the time they started walking, the sun began to sink, casting the sky golden. Stiles liked to blame his lack of balance on walking in the dark. 

Finally, several large buildings came into view. The buildings were surrounded by a tall outer fence. As they grew closer, Stiles could make out rusty equipment and large containers behind the buildings in the tall grass. Several windows had been shattered, leaving glass and stone fragments across the ground. And if the building didn’t look creepy enough, vines had creeped up the walls.

“Well this is great,” Stiles said while pulling on the fence. “How are we supposed to get in?”

“We climb.” Derek backed up and ran at the fence. At the last moment, he jumped, landing halfway up the fence. He quickly scaled the rest and dropped on the other side. He raised an eyebrow at Stiles.

Stiles realized his mouth was open and quickly closed it. He backed up and focused on the fence. “Alight, you got this,” he told himself. He ran at the fence and jumped with all his strength. Too far! He hit the fence and grasped furiously at the chains, nearly slipping a few times. When he felt like he had a good hold, he looked around and realized the top of the fence was a few feet away. He had somehow passed Derek’s spot and nearly made it over the fence. He chuckled in amazement and pulled himself over the top. His foot slipped and gravity pulled him down. He let out a shriek as he plummeted, only to hit a much softer landing than expected. Derek grunted and shifted Stiles in his arms.

“What part of stealth do you not get?” Derek said, planting Stiles on his feet.

Stiles stood there stunned by what just happened. When he caught his breath, he realized that he was standing inches away from Derek, who was staring at him intently. He felt something brush against his cheek, bringing him to reality. The strong scent of wolf and Derek washed over him, causing his heart to race and a weird feeling in his stomach. He pulled away and started walking to the main building. He counted to ten before he heard Derek’s footsteps following him. Coward, his mind called him.

When he reached the rusted door, Stiles waited for Derek to catch up. 

“The police aren’t here.”

It took Stiles a moment to change his train of thought so he could understand what Derek was talking about. “They must have left already. Do you think they found her?”

Derek tried to turn the door knob, when that didn’t work, he rammed shoulder first into the door, sending it flying open with a loud boom. “Don’t know.”

“I thought this was a stealthy mission,” Stiles muttered under his breath, knowing full well that Derek could hear him.

Derek ignored him and entered the building. Stiles could make out shapes and shadows in the dark building. He took a cautionary sniff and gagged hard. It was the worst smell in the world. Underneath the dust and decay, there was a stench of rotting sewer that had been left to simmer for years. Stiles really hated his heightened smell right then. Derek growled and Stiles thought he was having the same problem. Derek started walking and Stiles did his best to keep close. He peered hard at his surroundings until a fuzzy sensation covered his eyes. A moment later it past and he could see better. It wasn’t as good as daylight or night vision, but Stiles could see his surroundings in mute colors thanks to what he believed was light fragments. Maybe not all his senses were bad. 

They walked around the rooms and hallways for an hour, shouting for Macy. There were many rooms, each more disastrous than the last. Either there were pipes coming out of the walls that smelled awful or the entire area was flooded with sewer water or anything that wasn’t nailed down was thrown across the room, covering the floor. Occasionally, there would be beer bottles or crude spray-painted drawing. Stiles still didn’t see the appeal of hanging out here. 

"Maybe she is not here," Stiles suggested. He patted his pockets and groaned. "I think I left my phone in the car. Let's go out and get some fresh air and come up with a new plan. The others will be here soon."

"Fine," Derek agreed. He turned around and Stiles followed him. He didn't trust himself to find the way out with all the twist and turns.

Stiles started to recognize the hallway they were in when he heard an odd noise. He tugged on Derek’s jacket and signaled him to be quiet. Closing his eyes, he focused on his hearing. 

“...help...help me…” someone said softly.

Stiles turned to the left and noticed a door they hadn’t tried. Derek noticed and tried the door. It opened with a long creak, leading to a set of stairs going up and down. They paused and Stiles heard the voice coming from downstairs (of course). He started heading towards the stairs when Derek grabbed his arm.

“I don’t hear anything,” Derek said.

Stiles smirked. “Maybe my hearings better than yours. Someone calling for help downstairs.”

“Do you think it’s Macy?” Derek asked.

“I don’t know,” Stiles answered. “The voice was too soft.”

Derek stared at the stairs for a moment and nodded. He pushed past Stiles and started heading down. If this happened years ago, Stiles would have thought Derek only wanted to be first. But, now Stiles knew better. Derek expected danger and his Alpha instinct told him to be in front of the pack. Stiles still couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

They headed downward in silence. The smell seemed to get worse as they went. Stiles tried to force the nausea down and listen. Every now and then, the small voice would cry out for help, sending chills up Stiles’ spine. 

A sudden noise in front of him caused Stiles to scream. Derek pulled out his cellphone and smiled at Stiles. A wave of anger and embarrassment rolled over Stiles and he looked away.

“The others will be here in ten minutes,” Derek said. He turned his phone off and pocketed it. “Come on.”

After three flights down, the voice led to a hallway. While all the other levels upstairs had been trashed, this one had stayed cleaned. Everything looked in order, except for the layer of dust coating everything. Stiles couldn’t help glancing behind him, expecting there to be a monster about to jump them. Derek led the way. He could hear the voice now that they were closer.

They reached a room with a thick metal door. It screeched eerily when Derek pushed on it. The room was dark, and Stiles could only make out pipes jutting out of the walls and floors.

“Help me...Help mee..,” the voice continued.

“Hello?” Derek called out.

“Macy? Is that you?” Stiles yelled from behind Derek. 

“Help me….” 

Something felt wrong and Stiles knew Derek felt it. He could sense Derek tensing up. Slowly, they crept towards the voice, barely avoiding the pipes. They made it to the back of the room, right where there should have been someone, when Derek froze.

“Run!” Derek shouted and whipped around. He had shifted into werewolf form causing Stiles to flinch. 

He should have run. He should have listened. But seeing Derek as a werewolf caused him to freeze and he lost those vital seconds.

Something slammed into the back of his head and he fell. He heard the thud, before the hot white pain bloomed in the back of his head, causing him to wheeze and his vision to go black. As Stiles came to again, he could hear shuffling and grunting. There was a thud and then a wheeze, two more smacks of fist hitting flesh, a howl and then a bang. And a loud thud.

The loud gunshot echoed around the room. It hurt Stiles ears, making them ring. 

“What did you DO? We needed him alive,” A masculine voice yelled. 

Another voice started arguing with him, but Stiles tuned them out. He forced the smell of copper blood out of his nose. He needed to move. Slowly, while the figures argued a distance away from him, he moved his body. His head complained with every movement, but he had to get up. He got to his hands and knees and looked around.

He could make out two large men arguing with their backs turned to him in the dark couple of feet away from him.

“Help me...Help me..”

Stiles turned and saw no one. The voice was coming from the wall, and with closer observation, there was a box on the floor. Now, Stiles could hear the static below the voice. A recording.  
Biting his lip, Stiles searched the floor and saw a figure lying on their back, shaking as if they were being electrocuted. As soon as Stiles noticed him, Derek’s scent rushed over him. The smell of his blood was overwhelming. 

Stiles didn’t trust himself to stand up, so he crawled to Derek on hands and knees. He paused halfway through when one of the men shifted into a beast and attack the other. The former shifted too and started fighting. Now that they were closer, Stiles could smell their werewolf scent. The stench from the factory must have hidden them.

Derek made a soft gasping sound and Stiles hurried to him. Dark red fluid covered his face and the floor below his head. He was gasping and blinking rapidly, though he was shaking less and less. Tears spilled over and fell down Stiles cheek. He kept biting his lip so he wouldn’t moan. 

It looked like the wound was near the top of Derek’s head on the left, but Stiles couldn’t see past the blood to know. He was afraid to touch Derek and make things worse. Derek began to move less. His heartbeat became fainter, hardly audible over the fighting behind Stiles. 

Derek gasped, louder this time, shocking Stiles into action. His father flashed in his mind and Stiles dug into his pocket for his phone. It wasn’t there. 

He went for Derek’s pockets, while being careful not to move Derek. He found it and pulled it out. A flash of inspiration fell on him and he quickly pulled off his jacket and put it on Derek’s head, making sure there was pressure. 

Using one hand, he dialed 911. It rang and rang and then a recorded voice told him he wasn’t in service. Stiles threw the phone down in frustration. He looked around for another option. The two were still fighting. If Stiles wanted to get out, he’d have to get past them. Thoughts and plans flew through his head and he dismissed them quickly. 

He couldn’t fight both of them and win. He wasn’t strong enough to carry Derek up the stairs and outside. He couldn’t run out and call for help, while leaving Derek vulnerable with them. He hated how a part of him wanted to do that, just run far away from here, but he refused to move, plus he wasn’t sure he could get past them undetected. 

There was nothing he could do.

The sound of fighting cease. One was on top of the other and growling at them. They both looked injured and tired. They were going to notice him.

Stiles look back at Derek. He had stopped moving, but the twitch in his eye told Stiles there was still fleeting life in him. Stiles’ jacket was soaked with blood. 

Stiles removed his jacket and placed his hand on the side of Derek’s face. He could feel Derek’s blood-drenched hair. He took a deep breath and visualized the pain flowing into him and away from Derek. Nothing happened, but he kept trying. A weird feeling in his palm caused his hand to tingle and his palm to burn. He latched onto the feeling, letting it grow. Instead of a pulling sensation he had always visualized when he saw werewolves taking other’s pain, there was a pushing sensation, like something wanted to flow out of him. He let it.

A minute past and Stiles wasn't sure if he was helping Derek or doing anything at all. His arm had gone numb. He kept going.

A hand grabbed the back of his shirt and dragged him back, away from Derek. Stiles tried to grab him, but he only managed to seize his jacket. He kicked and wriggled, but the man crouched and wrapped Stiles in his thick arms.

“What should we do with him?” said the werewolf.

“Take him with us,” the other said, while crouching near Derek. He sighed and stood up, wincing. “You get to explain to Duke why the Alpha is dead.”

Stiles cried out and struggled. The arms squeezed his tighter, crushing him. Everything around him started to dim. He gasped and wriggled till his strength left. 

The last thing he noticed before he blacked out was the awful stench of Derek’s blood.


	5. Dried Blood

Cold water fell on him, causing Stiles to wake up with a jolt. He struggled to move but couldn’t. He noticed his arms and legs had been tied to a chair. Movement caught his eyes and he looked up.

Several battered men and women were silently watching him all around the empty living room. They were werewolves. He could smell it. He could also smell fear coming from them.

“Is he awake?” said a voice. “It is about time.”

Hands gripped his shoulders. Stiles looked up and saw a young man. He had to clench his jaw to keep himself from whimpering. The man would have been handsome with his smooth jawline and nice locks of black hair if not for the right side of his face was ruined with long scars and a dirty eyepatch. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

The man walked around Stiles and he caught sight of four werewolves holding the two wolves that kidnapped him down on their knees. They weren’t struggling, but the others held them like they were afraid the two would run away. No one was staring at Stiles, they were all looking at the man. That must be Duke, Stiles thought.

“Bane, why don’t you tell me what happened.” 

The wolf on the left nodded. “Me and John did what you said. We left the clue in the girl’s bedroom, set up the recording of her in the lower levels of the Plant, avoided the police and hid. It all went well at first. No trouble and he came, like you said he would. He came down with that one,” he jerked his head towards Stiles, “we couldn’t smell him, so we assumed he was a part of the Alpha’s pack. It was just the two of them. We took that one down first and then we went after the Alpha.”

Bane paused and swallowed loudly. Duke leaned against Stiles chair impatiently, the hidden anger coming off him made Stiles uncomfortable. He leaned away as far as his bonds would let him.

“He was stronger than we expected,” Bane said hesitantly. “He had more experience fighting than you predicted. He took...he grabbed me and threw me aside. By the time I got up, John had a gun pointed at him and he shot him.”

Duke stood up straighter and walked towards Bane and John. He stood right in front of them. “John,” he said, “did you kill our Alpha?”

“I don’t know,” John said. He started trembling. “It happened so fast. I thought he was going to kill me--” 

Duke reached out and with a jerk, snapped John’s neck. John went slack and was dropped on the ground. Bane never took his eyes off the man. “Alpha, I did everything as you said. I didn’t-”

Stiles closed his eyes, but he could still hear the audible snap of a broken bone and the thud of a dead body. His stomach lurch and he gagged.

“Does no one understand the importance of what we are trying to do?” Duke shouted at his pack. “I am trying to make this pack strong, to give us a real family and home. But some of you keep making mistakes and dragging the whole pack down.”

Everyone squirmed. He continued. “We have lived on the streets for long. We have survived on the scraps these Packs allow us to have. I want more. I want to be stronger than them. To be on top. Don’t you?”

Several of the pack cried out in agreement.

“Don’t you?” he screamed louder. 

The whole pack howled, and he seemed satisfied. “No more failures. This pack needs to be strong. If anyone doesn’t have the strength to follow me, then it would be best for everyone that they left. ” 

While everyone nodded. Only a lone figure stepped out. He had to be Stiles age or younger. He had dark skin and cuts all over his body. He was scrawny and small, yet, he didn’t seem scared. Everyone became quiet. “What are we going to do, Alpha? This is the second Alpha that we lost, the others must have noticed us and will be prepared.”

“That is a good point, Luke,” Duke said tensely, “which is why this Hale was supposed to work. Now I need to come up with a new plan.” 

The Alpha turned to Stiles and all eyes fell on him. 

“How did you know Alpha Hale?” 

Stiles tried to look relaxed and unfazed, but the scent of wolves so near caused his mind to race. He was also consciously avoiding thinking about what had happened earlier. He could still smell Derek’s blood, probably because it had dried on his hands and arms. “I was--I am his pack and the others are coming. They will find you and kill every last one of you for what you did.”

“Don’t lie,” the man growled. “You’re not even a wolf. You smell more like dinner.”

The others chuckled.

“We are pack!” Stiles said. “And it is a lot less strange than a pack filled with Omega with no Alpha.”

The Duke’s smile dip. 

Stiles swallowed his fears and smiled. “You’re not an Alpha, not really. I have met many Alphas and I know it takes more than being a leader to be an Alpha. That’s why you went after Derek,” his voice quivered, “and the other Alpha, he was trying to escape you. You need to kill an Alpha to become one.”

A realization hit Stiles. “He didn’t Turn Macy and me at random, he was trying to build a pack.” he said more to himself. He looked up at the Omega. “To fight you.” 

Duke stared at him for a while. The room was tense till he leaned back and smiled humorlessly. “So what? I will become a real Alpha and we will become a pack. Now that you had your little moment, you are going to tell me everything I want and then we are going to let you go.” 

“Really?” Stiles asked, shocked.

“So, we can hunt you down and tear you apart, like the prey you are,” he continued. Some of the wolves cheered. “It should be fun.”

“Sounds great. One problem. Why would I tell you anything when you are going to kill me afterwards?”

The wolf leaned forwards so their foreheads were touching, even when Stiles leaned back as far as he could. His breath smells foul, Stiles thought. He gripped Stiles right arm and squeezed with supernatural strength. Stiles shrieked and his bone cracked.

“Because you are weak.”

Stiles glared at him through the tears.  
\---------------------------------------  
Derek felt cold. He could have been floating through an endless blackness for all he knew. There seemed to be nothing but darkness and cold. He didn’t even think to question anything. He just wanted to give in to the darkness and coldness and---

“WAKE UP!” Cora yelled in his mind.

Derek jerked up, shifted and roaring. He would have actually jumped if there hadn’t been hands holding him down. He looked around and recognized Deaton’s vet room. He was on an operating table with his pack around him, looking relieved.

He became aware of his body, mostly because everything hurt, especially his head. He shifted back and looked down at his bruises and scrapes. Looking up with urgency, he realized they were missing a member. He turned to Scott.

“Where is Stiles?” he demanded.

Scott didn’t beat around the bush. “We don’t know. When we arrived at the Sewage Plant and found you, he was gone. We tried to get his scent outside, but it was too faint to follow. We agreed the others would get you back and I would continue looking for him--”

“Then why are you still here. Find him.” Derek growled.

Scott winced and looked down. Lydia stepped in. “We tried. Scott and the others had been searching for him nonstop for weeks. He only came back because we were about to lose you.”

Derek paused. “What do you mean weeks? How long have I been out?”

Deaton spoke. “You suffered a grave injury to your head. I would say a deep graze with a bullet. Thankfully, for some reason, it was healed enough that Allison and Erica were able to bring you here in time. I patched you up and dealt with the swelling as best I could. We were left with letting your abilities to speed up the recovery. It has been two and a half weeks since you and Stiles went to the Sewage Plant.”

“You almost died--” Derek waved his hand and cut off Cora. What almost happened didn’t even measure with what had happened. Stiles was gone. He had been torn from Derek’s side and Derek didn’t stop it. He touched the heavy bandages on his head.

He gripped the side of the table and prepared to stand up when hands flew in front of him and grabbed him.  
“You are in no condition--” Deaton began.

“I don’t care,” Derek growled. The others protest, but Peter knew his nephew better than they did and his comment hit the mark.

“You are weak,” Derek glared at him, but he continued, “you need time to heal. You will only slow us down if you try to rush it. We want to find Stiles as much as you do, but we can’t if we are too busy looking after you. Tell us what happened so we can continue the search.”

Derek glared at him a bit longer before relenting, everyone relaxed a bit. “Fine.”

They will find Stiles, Derek reassured himself, and I will never let him go.   
\------------------------------------  
Derek was rougher with his glove box than he needed to. He yanked it open and grabbed his Adderall. When excess paper and junk kept it from closing, he pushed them onto the floor and slammed the compartment shut with so much force, the lock broke and it fell open. His nostrils flared and he forced himself to focus on something else as he swallowed the pills dry.

The search was not going well. 

It had been a week since Derek woke up from his coma and they were no closer to finding those wolves than when Derek told his pack about them. He had sent Boyd, Erica and Isaac with Peter to sweep around Lightfort for any clues on Stiles and the werewolves. Scott had wanted to go with them, but Derek refused. Derek was bedridden for a couple of days and he only trusted to help him Scott lead the pack, even though they had spent a longer time without a leader while Derek was in a coma. It was a bitch of a fight, but Derek didn’t back down.

Alison offered to contact hunters in the area and ask them. Derek initially told her no, but as the days past and the others returned empty handed, he relented. Lydia went off with her and he hadn’t heard from them since. 

After the fifth day of learning nothing, Derek pushed himself out of bed. He became dizzy now and then, but he was determined to do something. Lying down and “resting” was torture. He didn’t want to think about what Stiles would consider torture. 

Now it has been 24 days since Stiles was kidnapped and tensions were running high. Derek became still for a minute. Gently, he gathered the junk off the floor and set them tidily in the back. He grabbed his grocery bags and went inside.

His house felt empty. It always felt too big and hollow when his pack left, but now it seemed to have soaked in the dejection its owner leaked.  
He had placed the last item (pasta noodles) on the shelf when the sound of a car’s engine that was becoming too loud for a coincidence. He moved towards the window and peaked out between the blinds.

“Shit.” He expected this but wasn’t prepared.

In a flash, he ran upstairs and moved the mattress off the guest bed. Hurriedly, he stashed all the maps and blueprints that were laid on the table and all their notes pegged on the walls on the frame. He carefully picked the mattress up and covered the evidence. He was picking up all the pegs, strings, and loose ends when there was knocking at the door. 

He quietly raced down and nearly reached the door when he saw the color dark blue in the corner of his vision. Derek grabbed Stiles’ bloody jacket and stuffed it under the couch he left it on. The knocking became irritable. Derek braced for the worse and opened the door.

“Sheriff,” he said as a greeting.

“Derek,” Sheriff Stilinski, Stiles’ father, answered.

Mr. Stilinski looked terrible. There were dark bags under his eyes and a hardness to his face. His hair and uniform were a mess. His scent was angry, frustrated, and scared. Derek sympathized with him but refrained from showing it. 

“Are you going to let me in, Hale?” he said in a voice that was used with someone was at the edge of staying polite.

Derek debated. The pack had planned on this happening. Mr. Stilinski had first approached Scott and it had not ended well. Derek moved aside and the sheriff walked in. Derek stayed back and watched Mr. Stilinski secretly, not so secretly search his house, before stopping in the living room and turning to Derek. 

“How did you get that head injury?” 

“I tripped down the stairs and hit my head on the railing,” Derek answered. His wound was healing slowly, but nicely. It wasn’t a stretch to blame a blunt impact caused it. Mr. Stilinski didn’t even blink.

“Where is my son?” 

“I don’t know, sir.” Derek had practiced with Cora and remembered all his lines. “I dropped him off at your house that Sunday.”

The sheriff stepped closer. “What time? Really think about it.” 

Derek pretended to pause. “Eight in the morning, sir.”

The sheriff leaned closed, Derek could smell the alcohol under his breath. “Scott said 11.”

Derek didn’t need to hear the jump in the sheriff’s heartbeat to know he was lying. “Scott must have been wrong. I dropped him off at eight.”

“Scott wouldn’t have made a mistake like that.”

Derek shrugged. “He must have. I don’t know what happened to your son, but I will help however I can.”

Mr. Stilinski backed off and looked around the room before his eyes landed back on Derek. “I want the receipt from where you two slept at that night.”  
“I don’t have it”

“Then the name and phone number.” Mr. Stilinski said quickly and frustrated.

“Fine. I'll write it down.” Derek headed into the kitchen and grabbed a piece of paper. He wrote down a shady hotel that Peter had paid off to agree with their story. It was almost like they had done something wrong. He heard the sheriff enter the kitchen. 

“Where were you when Stiles went missing?” 

Derek turned around and held out the paper. “I got my head injury shortly after and decided to go to my summer house to rest. I felt awful when I heard what had happened.  
“Then why didn’t you come back earlier?” The sheriff took the paper without looking at it. 

“I was trying to stay off any technology, so I didn’t hear about it until yesterday.” Derek could tell Mr. Stilinski was thinking, bullshit. It was the same expression Stiles made when he didn’t buy some lie someone was giving him. 

“Why don’t you come down to the station with me so I can get your story and signature?”

Derek was sure he was going to be required to go soon, but he didn’t want to go just yet. “I’m busy. Why don’t you go and write it up for me.”  
The sheriff squints his eyes. Derek moved past him and opened the door. Mr. Stilinski followed, but stopped when he entered in Derek’s personal space. “If you had anything to do with my son’s disappearance, you will regret it Hale. I will do whatever it takes to bring my boy home.”

Derek managed to keep his face. He wanted to console the man and tell him he was also going to do whatever it takes to bring Stiles home, but he didn’t. 

He didn’t answer or move and after a moment, Mr. Stilinski turned and left. 

Derek closed the door and took a deep breath. 

Derek sat on the edge of the bed, staring at all the information they had gathered that he had repegged to the wall. There was hardly anything. History of the plant, information on Linton, possible sightings of the werewolves from other packs and hunters, but nothing important, nothing that would lead to Stiles. And Macy. Derek massaged his temple. Boyd had chastised him earlier for not focusing on Macy and he was right. Derek couldn’t help putting Stiles, his pack mate, first, before a girl he had never met. Hopefully, they were both together and safe.

Derek snorted and looked at the window. Orange light was filling the sky. He had stayed up all night, looking at the walls. He got up and slowly made way to his bed. He curled up around Stiles jacket. Beneath the coppery stench of his blood, the jacket smelled like Stiles. A sweet cinnamon like smell mixed in with the scent of rabbit and earth. Derek let the smell calm him as he drifted off to sleep.


End file.
